


Before I Die (Let Me See Some Extra Scenes)

by AngelWalkingTheStars



Series: Before I Die (Let Me See Color) [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Deleted Scenes, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Kind of a bit of everything idk, One Shot, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-11-27 05:10:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWalkingTheStars/pseuds/AngelWalkingTheStars
Summary: Pretty much what the title says. Some deleted scenes, drabbles and one shots set in Before I Die (Let Me See Color), most from the perspectives of characters besides Allen.





	1. Daisya

**Author's Note:**

> First up, Daisya! Love my boi <3  
A one shot set during Chapter 20 of Before I Die (Let Me See Color).  
Enjoy!

The kid in front of Daisya looks like he’d weigh 90 pounds soaking wet with the white hair and stark cheek bones of a boy whose suffered too long with too little food. If not for the pure snow powder white of it, Daisya would’ve thought this young exorcist’s hair  _ was _ the result of malnourishment. Daisya’s seen enough areas of poverty in his time  _ (hell, he’s lived in some of them) _ , to have seen the murky white some malnourished children’s hair becomes.

Then he sees the way the boy cradles his left arm, not a weapon in sight, some strange  _ power _ to his posture and thinks,  _ maybe he doesn’t get enough food. _

Kanda had said the kid was a parasitic type.

“Kanda,” the boy greets, blinking big grey eyes up at him, falsely innocent if not for the scowl pulling down the corners of his mouth and furrowing his brow. 

He’ll give the kid credit where it’s due, he’s got some guts.

“Beansprout,” Kanda replies from where he’s standing in front of Daisya. Daisya snorts; the kid already has a nickname? Of course he does, with how much Kanda has talked about him.

_ (Okay, so maybe the grumpy samurai only complained for a couple sentences about the younger exorcist, but still, in Kanda-speak that was practically a half hour rant.) _

It’s also way too funny how Kanda thinks he can keep Daisya from interacting with the little squirt just by blocking his view of him.

“Beansprout? So this is the Beansprout you were talking about, Kanda? Gotta say, I think you placed him right! Definitely looks like a bean sprout!”

The taller boy sends him a look clearly stating  _ how dare you expose me like this  _ to Daisya but is probably supposed to mean  _ shut the fuck up or I’ll murder you _ instead.

The boy’s face flushes pink with indignation, even as he tries to keep a painfully polite smile on his face. His eyebrow twitches.

“I am  _ not _ a beansprout,” the boy grits out, enunciating the words clearly. Daisya can hear the hints of his British accent, along with a strange mix of a few other dialects and something a little rougher underneath.

Daisya finally steps out from behind Kanda, grinning madly at the banter.

“Ooh, he’s got a temper on him too!”

For a moment, the boy looks like he’s been slapped across the face, staring at Daisya wide-eyed.

Now, Daisya is used to stares, he knows what he looks like, what he  _ chooses _ to look like. The exorcist coat usually attracts even more stares.

Even so, Daisya doesn’t think the boy in front of him should be one to judge on appearances.

And then the younger exorcist’s lips quirk up into a smirk, ancient but mischievous as he jests the jester.

“Do you have a scepter to go with that hat of yours, jester?”

Immediately after, the boy’s expression blanks, seeming either surprised or horrified at his own impudence. Kanda, straightening his posture to be painfully straight  _ (hehe, straight) _ , looks ready to defend Daisya’s honor, the big softie.

Before either can say anything, Daisya  _ cackles _ . He is, afterall, a performer.

“Oh, I have something far better.”

Drawing on his Innocence, Daisya allows the ball chiming at the end of his hood to  _ fly _ .

He juggles Charity Bell around for a little while, feeling the sing of her power and strength down to his very core, flying around him as nostalgia rests in his gut. There really is nothing better than soccer.

He turns and sees the smaller exorcist watching him with an expression comparable to awe.

“Cool, right?” Daisya grins.

The boy smiles, and this time - even though nothing had actually  _ seemed _ wrong with the first smile - Daisya can tell this one is more real. Far more beautiful. It makes the boy’s ancient eyes gleam silvery bright, like a bell.

“Yes.”

Daisya can feel some of the tension leech from Kanda’s shoulders at the averted confrontation and can’t help but smile when he mutters halfheartedly in the boy’s direction, “You’re one to call someone a jester.” 

There’s little bite to the words but Daisya turns to the younger exorcist, curious as to his reaction.

“I know another clown when I see one.” 

Daisya blinks, surprised despite himself. He can see Kanda thinking much the same. Here, the boy hesitates, just for a second, and if Daisya hadn’t been looking for it, he knows he wouldn’t have noticed.

“I grew up in a circus,” is the elaboration, and something clicks in place for Daisya. The boy’s easy grace, surely known long before his fight against the Earl, and his smile, a performer’s smile, real but not. Daisya wonders what his act had been.

Returning Charity Bell to its rightful place on his hat, Daisya steps forward, decision made.

“I’m Daisya Barry, the jester of the Black Order and best soccer player in Europe!” 

He grins, a fool, as he shakes the boy’s hand.

“Allen Walker, former clown and current Exorcist of the Order,” the boy - Allen - smiles back.

Daisya’s decided. Allen, whether he knows it or not, needs a friend. And Daisya is going to be that friend.

“Are we heading down to train or what?”

And of course, Kanda - the bastard - ruins their moment.

“Oh yeah!” Daisya exclaims and then an idea pops into his head. “Would you like to join us, Allen?”

The boy smiles again, sheepish this time.

“I really would love to, but I was heading to get some food before my next mission. I’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

Daisya feels himself physically deflate at the rejection but, determined not to feel too upset, allows that the boy has a good excuse. His eyes dart down to the boy’s left arm again; he can practically hear the boy’s stomach growl. Allen is way too  _ thin _ .

Instead of hugging the boy -  _ they really don’t know each other well enough yet _ \- he darts down the hallway, Kanda following.

“I’ll see you later then! When you get back! It was nice meeting you, fellow clown!”

“Good bye, Daisya! Kanda! It was nice to meet you too!”

There’s a smile in Allen’s voice.

“He was nice!” Daisya grins. “I hope I get to go on a mission with him at some point!”

Kanda grunts, playing at disinterest. “If he lasts that long.”

“Of course, he will!” Daisya says, slapping Kanda’s arm and dancing just out of reach as the angry samurai reaches for him. “He’s strong, I can tell!”

Kanda looks at him for a moment, and he must see something - who knows what - in Daisya’s eyes because all he does is look away and grunt.

“Let’s go before someone else takes up the training room.”

Daisya grins, falling into step with his friend. “They’ll probably leave once they see you in there.”

Kanda grunts, scowl deepening in a way Daisya knows is him trying not to unsheathe his sword.

Damn, he really can’t wait to see Allen again. The Beansprout will be a great accomplice in annoying the hell out of Kanda.


	2. Daisya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a part 2 of the first chapter. Based off Chapter 22 of Before I Die (Let Me See Color).

The next time Daisya sees Allen Walker, the boy’s face is frozen, like a mask, and his face is so white Daisya questions whether or not he’s wearing clown makeup.

The boy’s under-eye bags stand out dark against his pale pallor and his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut.

He’s shaking and hasn’t moved from the hospital wing in days. 

General Yeegar is dead, and he left behind a boy, far too young and far too old.

It’ll be a little while before Daisya can get the boy to play pranks on Kanda and practice juggling with him, but Daisya can wait.

He’ll help the beansprout as much as he can. Allen Walker will recover, will come back stronger. He is a clown afterall. Clowns don’t stay sad for long.

Daisya can wait.

They have time.


	3. Lavi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd say this is probably set some time after Chapter 19 of Before I Die (Let Me See Color). Can probably be read whenever though.
> 
> This was 100% written before Chapter 19 back during Miranda's arc because I missed Lavi and wanted to skip ahead lol. But yeah, keep in mind, this isn't completely canon. There are some different colors added into the mix (also some I haven't introduced into the story yet oops don't worry it's still on the list).

Lavi, Allen has come to find even with the limited time he’s spent with the man, is a living contradiction.

His aura is almost predominantly yellow, all the time, with a range from dull yellow to golden yellow, and the shift between is as fast as it is startling.

His aura always has an underlying hum of dark blue and turquoise as well as golden yellow, which he finds actually suits the bookman apprentice.

And worst of all, Allen thinks, is that he can’t tell what’s truly genuine half the time.

And neither can Lavi.

Because if Allen can’t tell from looking at the redhead’s colors (a direct reflection of what the person themself feels), then Lavi has literally no chance of deciphering it.

That, in itself, is worrying.

Lavi lives to contradict, switching colors fast enough to qualify as bipolar and sporting smiles that cut like shattered glass and shine bright enough to blind.

His hair blares carrot orange, full of life and enthusiasm, and his eyes glint jade, tired and jealous and underhanded.

His aura is almost always yellow, but his core is dark blue and turquoise, and Allen’s always found comfort in turquoise.

Lavi hurts to look at because Allen can’t tell what’s real and what part’s a mask, and he knows Lavi can’t either.

Shattered glass in a battlefield of broken shields and blundered armor with a cracked mirror beneath his feet, and even as each step makes another line and he looks down to watch it grow and join others and build beneath him until he falls through and drowns; he knows he’ll keep going because he’s done it dozens of times before.

When Allen looks at Lavi, he sees himself but honed and focused and apathetic.

It hurts because he knows he’s already broken, what it feels like, and he can’t let that happen to Lavi too.

Not again.

-

_ (One day, Allen will find out how golden yellow Lavi’s core really is. Maybe, someday, Lavi will too.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not uploading a chapter this week. I have exams coming up and I really don't want to fail (again). I hope this little tidbit of Lavi angst makes up for it lol
> 
> (ps hope you liked the little nod to Lavi's Kanda-given nickname)

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'm working on the og fic lol, but I got inspired and then the next thing I knew, I was writing the wrong fic. Sorry but I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
